

YOUTH RIDING 


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MARY CAROLYN DAVIES 




Class IES.a^iii_ 

CjQEXright deposit. 



YOUTH RIDING 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

H»W YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. 

TORONTO 



YOUTH RIDING 

LYRICS 



BY 
MARY CAROLYN DAVIES 

Author of "The Drums in Our Street" 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1919 

All rights reserve^ 



^0 



Copyright, 1919 
By the macmillan company 



Set up and clectrotyped. Published November, 1919* 



NOV 26 1919 



LA535878 



i 



^ 

^ 



DEDICATED 
TO 

EDWARD J. WHEELER, 
JESSIE B. RITTENHOUSE, 

AND 

THE OTHER OFFICERS AND MEMBERS 

OF THE POETRY SOCIETY 

OF AMERICA 



Thanks are due to the following maga- 
zines for permission to republish many of 
these poems: 

Atlantic Monthly, Century, Poetry, Poetry 
Journal, Contemporary Verse, Dial, Smart 
Set, Judy, Youth's Companion, Touchstone, 
Pictorial Review, Reedy' s Mirror, Smith's, 
Liberator, A ins lee's. Others, and others. 



PART I 



YOUTH RIDING 

YOUTH RIDING 

I will not bow my head 

To listen to the dead. 

I am alive and I am young, 

There is gladness on my tongue, 

And my lips are red. 

There is red within my blood, 
There is red beneath my cheek, 
There is a flood 

Of red that makes me sing and speak 
And shout with youth — 

I shall never bow my head 
And sit and listen to the dead. 

I am young, I am young 1 
I am fleet ! 

[3] 



Youth Riding 

I am fresh and living and sweet. 

They reach out hands for the joy I hold, 

They who are old, they who are old ! 

Old in heart, and old in years. 

Old by right of shrinkings and fears. 

I give them joy with my two hands thrust 

Out to their hands, for they are dust, 

They are dust and they are mold, 

They who are old. 

They are dust falling under my feet. 

And what I have I will not withhold. 

They take what I give, and greedily 

Pluck at my gown for the youth they 

see — 

At my throat, on my hands — I loose 

each gem. 
And give to them — 
But well I know 

To give is to keep, they can not hold 
The youth I stretch to them. They are old. 

[4] 



Youth Riding 

I have the step of a god, the swift 
Sweep of a deer, and a swallow's lift. 
I can go where the tree winds go ; 
I can run where the quick winds run. 

I walk safe with the talisman 

That you may snatch from Spring if you can ! 

My mouth shall be red and my cheek be red, 

My hair shall be gold upon my head, 

My laugh shall be new as the first laugh 

heard, 
My heart shall be clear as a pool unstirred, 
I shall never grow old and change ! 
I shall be all that is wild and strange. 
All that sets the thought aglow 
To have, to snatch, to glimpse, to go, 
To hear, to snare, to make, to know I 
I shall be what is beyond the white 
Horizon's line, and what the night 

[5] 



Youth Riding 

Holds in Its lips for the tired to hear. 
I who am youth shall be always dear I 

Those alone are slaves who choose. 
— We who wish, may have life to use ! 
Others Change may traffic among, 
Others Change may choose and buy, 
Not I, not I ! 

I bear a sword, I bear a shield, 

I have a spear to wield. 

I shall go over the world and kill, 

Tread and tramp and blot and still 

All that is wrong, though set on high, 

I who am youth, and cannot die ! 

All who arc old have need to fear ! 
They shall not cumber 
And keep the earth for a place to slumber. 
[6] 



Youth Riding 

— I am youth and I come alone ! 

I will pull you from your throne, 

I will pull you from your place, 

You who are staid and calm of face ! 

I look within you and I see 

Well you have need to shrink from me ! 

I am a rebel and I ride 

Wherever there are things to hide, 

I pull them into the light; and slay 

All that is old and mean and gray. 

I shall snatch, I shall seek, 

I shall find, too, and destroy 1 

I am youth, I am youth, 

I am joy! 

Ruthless to myself and the weak. 
Tireless to rear and build, and seek, 
I shall not shrink from a lonely land 
Or grope with my hand for another hand 
Or a staff to hold 

[7] 



Youth Riding 

Like those who cower 
And like those who are old. 
Only my own heart I hear. 
Only my own strength I heed. 
I have no lack ! I have no fear ! 
I have no need ! 

I shall yet kill evil, I 

Who am youth, and cannot die ! 



[8] 



THE DAY BEFORE APRIL 

The day before April 

Alone, alone, 
I walked in the woods 

And I sat on a stone. 

I sat on a broad stone 
And sang to the birds. 

The tune was God's making 
But I made the words. 



[9] 



BORROWER 

I sing of sorrow. 

I sing of weeping. 
I have no sorrow. 

I only borrow 

From some to-morrow 

Where it lies sleeping, 
Enough of sorrow 

To sing of weeping. 



[10] 



MARRIAGE 

Back from the dusty church, 

The words all said 

And the strange kiss given, 

We walked down the long lane of Fourteenth 

Street, 
(Our shoulders touching home-bound clerks. 
And shoppers, straggly shawls about their 

heads). 
To the Hungarian restaurant where for 

weeks 
You had courted me between the soup and 

steak. 
To-night 

The mirrors all about the walls seemed only 
To show your face to me, and mine to you ; 
Wherever I might look, I found your eyes. 



Youth Riding 

You mine, and as we gazed 
We quite forgot that earth held other things; 
Until our friendly waiter, twinkling-eyed. 
Came bustling back, a link from heaven to 
earth. 

Three blocks of windy street, 

Three flights of stairs. 

And then we stood 

Before your studio door. 

You turned the key 

And groping in the dark, you found a candle 

And pouring tallow in a little pool 

Upon the mantelpiece, you stood it there 

In its tall whiteness. 

There was rain outside; 

The skylight hummed and rattled with its 

coming. 
A few faint sounds blew up from the loud 

distance ; 

[12] 



Youth Riding 

The grunt of a Salvation Army's drum 
Blent with the noise 

Of women's voices roughened by the night 
Singing from hearts the night has roughened 

too — 
And softened. 

The street flung up its sounds against our 

window, 
But could not force the fortress of our 

thoughts, 
Your thoughts of me, and mine of you, old, 

new, 
And riotous — 
And frightened — 

We, who had always been such open com- 
rades, 
Now were half afraid 
To touch each other's hands, 
[13] 



Youth Riding 

To see each other's faces in the dim 
And holy dusk. 

We thought of God. I prayed to Him, 
As I had prayed when first you said, '' I love 

you," 
The same quick, breathless, little broken 

prayer, 
" God, oh, don't let us hurt each other, ever." 

The portraits you had painted were about us, 

A ghostly company of friends. 

Life seemed all ends; 

Ends of things finished, ends of things begun. 

Ends, ends — 

No safe and placid middles. 

Because the silence choked from utterance 
All other words, we talked of daily things, 

[14] 



Youth Riding 

Your order for a cartoon, and the story 
Long overdue, that I must mail to-morrow — 

And then the silence 

Laid its hands even on these commonplaces. 

We looked at one another gravely, 

Shy children that our mothers. Youth and 

Life, 
Had brought to see each other, and to play 
Together. 

Two startled children 
Permitted by the gold ring on my hand 
To stay and talk there in the dusk alone 
And for the first time not to think of clocks 
But if we liked, watch night's dark bud bloom 
dawn. 

The silence grew and filled the room's dim 
corners. 

[IS] 



Youth Riding 

The candle on the mantel burned its life out 
And its flame died, and all the room was 

dark ; 
And on the skylight fell the black loud rain ; 
And in the world there \yas no other sound 
But your breathing 
And the beating of my heart. 

Then in the dark 

You stumbled to me 

And caught me by the shoulders 

And laid your mouth on mine. 

And all the hunger of our lives for life, 

And all my hunger for you, yours for me, 

Surged up in us, love caught us as a storm 

A helpless ship, and beat upon us; joy 

Rose like a tossing sea, and swallowed us. 



[i6] 



SONG 

We cannot die, for loveliness 

Is an eternal thing. 
If God, his dim old ej^es to bless, 

Brings back the Spring, 

Shall he not bring again your grace, 
Your laughter, your warm hair ? 

And how can he destroy my face 
Your kiss made fair ? 



[17] 



TO L. E. D. 

You are alive, and I ; 
And that is why 

We reached out over the cluttered dead 
And touched hands and were comforted. 
Over the dead who live in rows, 
(Like houses all alike to the eye 
Except for a number to tell them by) . 
Who live in rows, and think in rows. 
Who feel in rows, and, still in rows. 
Will sometime even more surely die, 
And in a well-kept graveyard lie 
In acquiescent measured rows. 

But your thoughts were like undipped hedges ; 
Your thoughts like leaves grew past the 
edges 

[i8] 



Youth Riding 

Of all the boundaries men could make. 

Beauty was in you like a thirst 

That naught in life would ever slake. 

I saw within your searching eyes 

The sleepless nights that had made you wise ; 

I saw within your face the same 

Questioning that from the first 

Has lived in me, too, and has given 

Me all the goals for which Fve striven. 

I saw your unrest like a flame 

Burning little things away 

That might have grown within you . . . 

They, 
The dead, who in the room discussed 
Trivial things, as people must, 
Though shrewd their eyes, could never see 
The hidden thing in you and me, 
The little spark of life that drew 
You close to me and me to you. 

[19] 



SNOW 

Your kiss is on my face 

Like the first snow 
Upon a summer place. 

Bewildered by that wonder 
The grasses tremble under 
The thing they do not know. 
I tremble even so. 



[20] 



A GRACE 

Bread 

Is your hand upon my head; 

Wine 

Is your warm mouth pressed to mine. 

Let us thank the gods who give 
Bread and wine that we may live. 



[21] 



MY MOTHER SAID — 

" Love will be a sword to you," 

My mother said — 
" Not a pillow 

Behind your head, 
Not a staff 

Below your hand, 
Not a stream 

In a brown land; 
Love will never 

Be a breast 
Where you, sore beset, 

May rest. 

'' What you have felt 

You will forget. 
To old-time joy, 

[22] 



Youth Riding 

To old-time fret 
Eyes you will shut, 

Ears you will seal. 
You will bow, 

And you will kneel. 
Grass beneath. 

Sky overhead — 
What you possessed 

You will count as dead. 

'* You will give all to love as his 

due: 
And for that will love be a sword 

to you — " 
My mother said. 



[23] 



ARTIST DEATH 

It IS Death that makes the sun so red, 

The moon so round : 
It is Death that makes the blue and yellow 

Spring from the ground, 
To catch our senses and confound. 

It IS Death's hand that stirs the water 

And lays the white. 
Young moon there quivering with pain 

For our delight, 
As we walk out at night. 

It is Death that makes the wind so fair 

That turns a tree. 
It is Death that makes your eyes so sweet, 

Your step so free ; 
And makes you fond of me. 

[ 24 ] 



THE DOOR 

The littlest door, the inner door, 

I swing it wide. 
Now in my heart there is no more 

To hide. 

The farthest door — the latch at last 

Is lifted; see. 
I kept the little fortress fast. 

— Be good to me. 



[25] 



A WOMAN^S SONG 

I can love you without caring 

What is the end of my love's faring; 

I can love you without asking, 
Without seeking, without tasking; 

I can love you giving all 
That I hold to you in thrall ; 

I can love you without being 
Wise, or careful, or far-seeing: 

I can love without comparing 

Yours and my love. Joyous — daring - 

Would you have me love you so? 
It is the only way I know. 

[ 26 ] 



COMMUNION 

Your lips upon my white 

Arm in the slow moonlight 

Are like a spoken prayer. 

My loosened hair 

Is over all your cheek. 

If you or I should speak 

Our eyes' words would be stilled. 

A breath is in the room 

As though a rose found bloom ; 

A sound is on our ears 

As though a wild bird trilled 

Far off, in gardens dim 

With dusk of fading years* 

If God should stand before 

Our miracle-flung door, 

There would be no surprise 

In our calm welcoming eyes. 

[27] 



SWORD 

Hold no words back, 
Love, from me. 

Fearing one 

A sword may be. 

Need for choosing 
Words would fall 

On my heart 

Worst sword of all. 



[28] 



FREE 

Over and over 
I tell the sky : 
I am free — I ! 

Over and over I tell the sea: 
— I am free ! 

Over and over I tell my lover 

I am free, free ! 
Over and over. 

But when the night comes black and cold, 
I who am young, with fear grow old ; 
And I know, when the world is clear of sound, 
I am bound — bound — 

[29] 



SEA GULLS 

*' I am the white gull overhead! " 

To my love I said; 
And stretched my arms and cried 

To the gull's cry. 
And I shall have no freedom till I die. 
I shall know never lift of sky 

Or sweep of sea. 
I am chained cruelly by his love of me. 



[30] 



FIRE OF THE SUN 

Passionate children of the sun — 
You are one and I am one. 
A piece of his fire burns still in you; 
And in me, too. 

Lower your lids and veil your eyes. 
Let us pretend that we are wise ; 
That we are very wise, and that you 
Can smother that fire, and that I can, too. 

Let us forget that we are young, 
And have wanting in us. Let us go 
Walking cautiously and slow 
All these folk among. 

(Fire of the sun, smother, smolder!) 
Let us pretend that we are older 

[31] 



Youth Riding 

And that we are calm, and do not know. 
(Fire of the sun, burn low!) 

Let us laugh, and let us sing. 
That will be. a pleasant thing. 

Let us look at life, and weigh. 
And scrutinize it well, and say, 
*' We think we will not buy to-day." 



[32] 



TRAPS 

A trap's a very useful thing: 

Nature in our path sets Spring. 

It is a trap to catch us two, 

It is planned for me and you. 

Do not think my cheeks are warm, 

Do not wonder if my arm 

Would make a pillow sweet for rest. 

Not to speak or glance is best — 

To smother the thing that calls so clear 

Deep in our thoughts at the spring of the 

year. 
If we stop, if we look, if we speak, if we 

care,. 
Spring will catch us unaware. 
Will put us in a house with four 
Chairs, a table, and a door 

[33] 



Youth Riding 

To enslave us evermore. 

She means to tie you firm and tight 

To a desk from dawn till night, 

To make you strain and make you sweat 

Till you forget, till you forget 

All that is good and fine and high. 

She will give you fear to keep till you die. 

She means to tear my flesh to make 

A child to steal my hours awake, 

To break my hours asleep, to be 

Slayer of the youth in me. 

Slayer of the youth in you. 

Slayer of that which makes us sing. 

— Let us never look at Spring; 

It is a trap to catch us two. 



[34] 



THE APPLE TREE SAID: 

My apples are heavy upon me. 

It was the Spring; 
And proud was I of my petals, 

Nor dreamed this thing: 

That joy could grow to a burden, 

Or beauty could be 
Changed from snow-light to heavy 

To humble me. 



[35] 



TOYS 

We were happy. 

Now I weep; 
Pain is an easy 

Toy to keep. 

Fragile joy 

Breaks in a day; 
Pain will last 

Till I tire of play. 



[36] 



VINTAGE 

Heartbreaks that are too new 
Can not be used to make 

Beauty that will startle. 

That takes an old heartbreak. 

Old heartbreaks are old wine. 
Too new to pour is mine. 



[37] 



LINKS 

Nature threw a mist around, and trapped us 

two: 
Made me seem a fair and lovely thing to 

you; 
Made you seem a tall man desirable to own. 
— She has taken Spring away and left us two 

alone. 

There is never mist now — that is Nature's 

way. 
Where the love words all are said, what is 

left to say? 
While we two were touching Spring, tasting 

it and smelling. 
Nature trapped us neatly — and whcrc's the 

use rebelling? 

[38] 



GHOUL 

Love IS dead. 

But I look back from where I stand 

(From fear I fled.) 

But I steal back and snatch the pain 

To make one little song again; 

I cut his finger from his hand 

That I may have the heavy ring — 

I seize a memory from the dead, 

That I may sing. 



[39] 



RUST 

Iron left in the rain 

And fog and dew 
With rust is covered. — Pain 

Rusts into beauty, too. 

I know full well that this is so : 
— I had a heartbreak long ago. 



[40] 



THIS IS THE BITTEREST THING TO 
KNOW 

You are dead; dead, and there is laughter 

still. 
You are dead; dead, and on the floor below 
Those lovers kiss and cuff ; and lovers will 
Play through their crazy game we used to 

know. 
Play through their silly game ; and youth will 

be 
In all the men whom I shall pass and see. 
In all the young girls chatting — and in me. 
I, too, will laugh again and lift my head, 
Forgetting you, to hear some stranger's call. 
This is the bitterest thing to know of all : 
/, too, will laugh, though you, my love, are 

dead. 

[41] 



PART II 



A DAY 
I 

SUN PRAYER 

Sun, 

Lay your hand upon my head. 

I shall be kind to-day. 

Sun, make me kind! 

And lovely too — 

My eyes, 

And cheeks. And make me wise. 

I bow my head 

Low, low — 

Lay your hand upon it, so. 



[45] 



Youth Riding 
II 

SHADOWS 

Lean lower, Tree ! 

Give your beauty all to me. 

Have two arms to reach the sky. 

Eyes I have 

And hands to press 

Lazy buds apart, and feet 

To touch the stream with, 

Mouth to sing 

And ears to hear the gray brook's tone. 

These I have, these only. Tree, 

Give your shadows all to me ! 

I have no shadows of my own. 



[46] 



Youth Riding 

III 
WIND PRAYER 

Tree-wind 

Sea-wind 

Wind that whirls the sand, 

Loud wind 

Cloud wind 

Wind of swaying water, 

Let me hold your hand, 

Let me be your daughter ! 

Give me what I need. 

Wind of leaf and seed — 

Say your magic wisdom 

Over, slow, to me. 

Wind that rules the seal 

Wind that rules the grasses I 

— The wind passes — 

[47] 



Youth Riding 

IV 
RAIN 

Rain falls on the grass 

And on my feet. 

The drops are cool and round. The 

clover, oh 
How sharp it greets me ! And the trees 

bend low 
Beneath the raindrops. 
Faster 
Louder 
Rounder 
Colder 

The mad drops strike. 
If we were older 

We should be wise and shrink from rain. 
But because we are young, the grass and I 
Hold out our arms for its pain. 

[48] 



Youth Riding 

V 
THE GRAPES 

The grapes are round and dark 

Like eyes that mark 

Each thing I do. 

The sun has made them sweet and round; 

The wind will pull them to the ground. 

— I shall die, too. 

VI 
DUSK 

Dusk, 

Wrap your mantle 

About us both. 

I am tired too. 

And cold, and full of sleep. 

And keep 

[49] 



Youth Riding 

Your arm around me. Day 

Is far away 

And night has not yet called us. Let us 

pull 
The mantle closer, Dusk, O beautiful! 



[50] 



FOREST DANCE 

I shall dance in the forest, 

And all my dancing shall be for you — • 
For you, who are very far away. 

The wind shall make 

A tune for my feet. 
It must be low ; 

It must be sweet — 
For it is for you. 

Sweeter, lower; 

A little slower — 

Now I raise my foot and knee ; 

And spurn the ground; and leap; and see 

The sky like a scarf to strain to, touch, 

[51] 



Youth Riding 

Feel, and be part of, and claim, and clutch, 
And wave in my dance ! It is a fine 
Silken scarf, and it is mine ! 
It is made for my dance ! 

Wind ! Louder ! Faster ! 

Be confusion ! Be disaster ! 
Now I crouch, and now I run. 
And dance, and dance, and catch the sun 
In one outstretched arm, and fling it high 
Back, against the wall of the air ! 
Now it is caught in the scarf I wear ! 
Now it is caught in my scarf, the sky. 
Like a jewelled pin, like a yellow stone I 
It, too, is my own ! 

Now I shall trail my scarf, and tread 
A stately march, and droop my head, 
Mimicking flowers, and they will all 
Tremble with anger. I shall let fall 
My scarf, and now I shall dance the word 

[52] 



Youth Riding 

That is in my heart when I think of you. 

(It is a burning word, and holy. 

It is like a wakened bird.) 

Wild, and mad is my dance ! I turn 

Swaying, trembling, like a tree, 

Like a tree that starts to burn 

In a forest, that feels the fire creep slowly 

Up its branches, into its bark. 

And sees its own smoke, like a dark 

Cloud that shuts it out from the known 

Trees with whom it has leaved and grown. 

Caught in flames, it shivers to see 

Itself a flame, that was a tree ! 

So I dance ! Wind, sing, sing ! 
Louder, wilder, faster fling 
Down your music I I drop the sky 
Beneath my feet, and I tread it under. 
I hold my cupped hands, full of wonder, 
High, high — 

[53] 



Youth Riding 

I dance in the forest, 

And all my dancing is for you, 
Who are far away, and will never know. 



[54] 



DANCE 

God's in me when I dance 

God, making Spring 

Out of his thoughts 

And building worlds 

By wishing. 

God 

Laughing at his own 

Queer fancies, 

Standing awed, 

And sobbing; 

Musing, 

Dreaming, 

Throbbing; 

Commanding; 

Creating — 

God's in me 

When I dance. 

[55] 



Spring day 

I close my eyes. 

The whole world dies. 

I open them and I create 

A tree, a falling fence, a gate, 

A pine cone fallen from the tree — 

And me. 

Against the tree I lean my cheek 
And as I stand and do not speak 
I think the heart that throbs in me 
Is underneath the bark, its beat 
Fills my cold face with sudden heat; 
The sap that comes from rain and sun 
To fill the tree and make it live 
Is in my veins, I feel it run 

[56] 



Youth Riding 

Through hands and temples radiantly; 

And like the tree I lean upon 

I too am a tree ! 

I raise my head and see 

The world, and it is sweet, 

And sunny to my feet 

And green, and rustling. High 

I lift my arms ! The sky 

Is just beyond my reach ! 

I understand the speech 

Of squirrel and weed and stone. 

When I am grown 

A little taller still 

I shall see past the hill 

To where the great world ends. 

The keen winds are my friends. 

And God, too, and the grass. 

Above, there pass 

White shapes that change and flow 

And blend and break and go 

[57] 



Youth Riding 

Beyond my eyes. Below 
The grasses dream and sway. 
And I am even as they. 

And then I draw apart and gaze 

Upon the hard hill's mystic haze. 

I am a girl again; the tree 

Is long world distant now. I see 

No homely thing that I have knov/n. 

The earth has vanished, tree and stone. 

I am alone, I am alone ! 

All space and all eternity 

Has held, and holds, but God and me. 

I am afraid of what I see. 

And then I close my eyes, and then 

When I open them again 

Out of nothing I create 

A tree, a falling fence, a gate — 

[58] 



A GIRL'S SONGS 
I 

I have three rings on my hand: 

One is set in blue 
And one has chrysoprase 

And one I wear for you. 

They are friends to me, 
They keep me company 

All the white night through. 
And when I think of death 
And how without a breath 
The house is, and the night, 
My three rings clinging tight, 
Are warm upon my hand — 
My three round rings, 

[59] 



Youth Riding 

They are living things; 
And they understand. 
** Don't be afraid," they say, and I 
Pretend I would not fear to die. 

II 

My watch beneath my pillow white 

Whispers to me all the night. 

My heart beats and my watch ticks 

And the fear of dying pricks 

Like a pin God holds, and he 

Stabs my brain with it gleefully. 

My watch ticks and my heart beats 

And cool and smooth are the linen sheets 

And I am alone, and the house is still. 

And there are stars past the windowsill. 

Ill 

I should like to be a nun 
I think sometimes — 

[ 60 ] 



Youth Riding 

A nun, to fast, hear chimes. 

And wear black gowns with folds; and 

keys ; 
And know the words of rosaries, 

To have no long hair : and to give 

Obedience while I live 

To other women, and to walk 

As though I were older, and to light 

Candles at saints' feet, and talk 

About himself to God at night. 

Sometimes I think Fd rather be 
Sitting like this, and daintily 
Eating wafers with my tea. 



[6r] 



MOMENTS 
I 

LOITERER 

Wait for me, Life : Don't go so fast : 
There is so much I want to see : 
Look, Life, we passed 
Another little child like me. 
Why must we always hurry so ? 
I want to stop and say '' Hello." 

II 

KIN 

I am kin to things that fly; 
I am kin to things that run; 
To things that blot and dark the sky; 

[62] 



Youth Riding 

To things that play and touch the sun; 
And to things that leap and cry. 

No kin to other folk am I — 
III 

THE BLURRED TWIG 

Spring has come into the park, and into me. 
I look as high as the roofs reach, and I see 
That the branches are blurred, they are not 

sharp-cut and clear; 
As they were a day ago. I am sorry it is 

here, 
Spring, for it means I have lived another 

year. 
And so must die a whole year sooner. You 
Will have to die a whole year sooner, too. 



[^2^ 



Youth Riding 
IV 

THE DANCING DRESS 

My little dancing dress is sad, 
It is so long since we have been 
Very close of kin. 

Together once we used to bow; 
We are only strangers now. 
In very lonesome folds it lies : 
I look at it with casual eyes. 

Once at my slightest touch it stirred; 
It quivered at my body's word: 
And it and I were only one. 

We were a shadow and its sun; 

We were a nest and its westless bird ; 

We were wine in its glass; 

[64] 



Youth Riding 

We were wind and grass; 

I was a bud and it the bough. 

— These things are all over now. 

It is long since we have been 
Very close of kin — 



OUR STREET 

The moon was falling into our street 

Out of a tree, 
And we walked slow, and the night was sweet, 

And there were three 
Stars huddled together in the space 
That is the sky, and in your face 
Was a little laughing, a little pain 
And the fear that there could not be again 
A night so dear as this night had been. 
And we said Good-by, and I went in. 



Youth Riding 

And you walked away; and the church 

clock spoke. 
And the moon fell into our street and 

broke. 

VI 

THE FRAME 

I am a picture in a frame, 

The frame is made of thoughts in you; 

It is black like fear, and red like flame. 

I can not burst it and come through 

Its narrow edges, and walk free. 

— I am here in a frame for all to see ■ — 

VII 
REBEL 

I do not want to be a leaf 

When I am dead; 
Or a red rose. 

I must, though, I suppose ! 
[66] 



THE DROWNED MEN 

I heard the dead men talking 
Beneath the sea. 

On the gray sand 

My lover spoke to me : 

" Your face is dearer than the world," he 
said. 

He said, '^ If I were dead 

And you came by, I still would stir and wake 

For my love's sake. 

Give me your heart," he said. I sat unheed- 
ing. 

And laughed, and did not listen to his plead- 
ing. 

And woven through his speech I heard 
The drowned men's secrets, every word. 

[67] 



Youth Riding 

One 

Tangled his hands in sea-weed, 

And said, 

" So was her hair." 

One held a buried jewel to his eyes. 

And said, 

" She was more fair." 

A third 

Whose voice was young, 

Said, '' In the sweet sea-sounds 

It seemed just then 

That I her laughter caught." 

One stretched his hand to close upon 
A trembling, tiny fish 
That darted through it. 
And vanished, and he sighed, 
" So was her thought." 
[68] 



Youth Riding 

I heard the drowned men talking 

Where ruined ships, 
And sea-things keep them grisly company. 

And through their words my lover's wove. 

** Give me your lips," 
He said again to me. 
" I will be constant evermore," he said. 
He said, '* If I were dead 
I still would think of you 
The ages through. 
And speak your name 
And wait until you came." 

And then, because I knew 

As he did not, that what he said was true, 

I lifted up my lips and kissed him too. 



[69] 



PART III 



IN MY ROOM I READ AND WRITE 
In my room I read and write. 

Somewhere men cry out and fight, 

Struggling for the thing they need. 

Somewhere women reach and take 

What time withholds, and wrench and make 

Days into something odd and new. 

They say words which are wild and true. 

They bend life like a rod of glass 

That they have heated in the flame 

Of their wills. They would know shame 

If they did not bring to pass 

Mighty things for beauty's sake 

And truth's. And they will never sheathe 

The sword they fight with, while they breathe. 

Shelter, clothing, food and ease 

[73] 



Youth Riding 

May not beat them to their knees ; 
Need of touch, and word, and rest 
Will not hpld them from the quest. 
All, in good time, after stress, 
As they know well, they shall possess. 

Somewhere men and women take 

What time withholds, and wrench and make 

Life into something odd and new. 

Women seek for what is true. 

Under wrong men turn and fight. 

— In my room I read and write. 



[74] 



YOUTH^S A CLEAN SWORD 

Youth's a clean sword; 

'Twin hew at wrong; 
Youth's a keen sword, 

And strong. 

Youth's in my hand; 

And I will thrust 
And thrust, before 

It turns to rust. 



[75] 



VASSAL 

My soul a king is; 

His vassal I. 
I fight here shrilling 

His battle cry. 

His wars I wage him, 

My booty bring. 
■ — Forth, Death, defend you I 

The King! The King! 



[76] 



BEGGAR 

Three coins of grief! 

Life, passerby! 

Stop ! Hear my cry ! 

A beggar I ! 
Three coins of grief! 
That I may buy, 
Toothsome and sweet, 
Wisdom to eat! 



[77] 



THE DEAD MAKE RULES 

The dead make rules, and I obey. 
I, too, shall be dead some day. 

Youth and maid, who, past my death. 
Have, within your nostrils, breath, 

I pray you, for my own pain's sake. 
Break the rules that I shall make I 



[78] 



THE SHOVELS OF THE DEAD 

My mother's made in the old mold, and does 
not understand. 

She never was an exile out of any land. 

She never was a rebel that railed against a 
king. 

My mother never felt or dreamed or con- 
quered anything. 

She kept the pathways made her, by shovels 
of the dead. 

She never tramped the white snow nor won- 
dered where it led. 

She never wished a new thing, she thinks it 
sad and wild 

That there should be such strange thoughts 
in the white mind of her child. 

She has a gown of gold cloth and maids to 
come and go, 

[79] 



Youth Riding 

She rides abroad in carriages, and docs not 

care or know 
That down the lane a woman keeps house 

with wifely care 
For seven squalid children and a memory and 

despair. 

She wishes me to dance and let the young 

men call 
And speak to me of opera and nothing else 

at all; 
And if a dirty artist or a shabby bard came 

in 
And talked of heights and beauty, and life, 

she'd think that sin. 

There are eager girls who sweep the world 

without our door. 
There are men who dream and toil and sing 

and serve the poor ; 

[80] 



Youth Riding 

Who serve the rich and poor with dreams 

and soup and bread. 
— I sit here with my mother and chat at tea, 

instead. 

I will leave my mother's house, I will take 

the road; 
I will carry nothing but a heavy load. 
No loads that are easy, as the load my 

mother bears; 
But something that will make my back bend 

like theirs. 

But my mother has no life at all except in me. 
How can I she bore in pain still bring her 

agony ? 
Bow her head and dim her eyes to weeping 

night and day? 
I am all her future, and I love her and will 

stay. 

[8i] 



THE DREAM-BEARER 

Where weary folk toil, black with smoke, 

And hear but whistles scream, 
I went, all fresh from dawn and dew, 

To carry them a dream. 

I went to bitter lanes and dark, 

Who once had known the sky, 
To carry them a dream — and found 

They had more dreams than I. 



[82] 



AN APOLOGY FOR POETS 

The bird is sad 
And so it cries. 

Men are silent 
Who are wise; 

They hide the griefs 
That at them pulL 

But they make 
Nothing beautiful. 



[83] 



PART IV 



TO OTHER MARYS 

Christ said, " Mary," as he walked within 
the garden 
The morning that he rose from death, 
calm and free of pain; 
The wounds in his hands and his side no 
longer burned him. 
He that once had been a man was a God 
again. 
Christ said, '' Mary " as he walked within 
the garden. 
All in his triumphing, back from the dead. 
With the wind upon his cheek, while the 
world was new to him, 
'' Mary " was the first name he ever said. 

The first Mary God chose, he looked about 
the world for her 

[87] 



Youth Riding 

And saw her walking with the maids of 
Galilee ; 
— She stood beside a clumsy-nailed cross 
above a hillside, 
And saw the babe on it she had held at her 
knee. — 
Christ praised another Mary whom the 
saints rebuked for wastefulness; 
For he understood them well, all Marys 
of his day. 
Yes, and of to-day, too, Mary staid and 
caring, 
Marys wild and home-loving — it was his 
way. 

Martha and Lazarus talked with Christ at 
supper-time, 
Martha and Lazarus, of crops and folk 
and wars ; 

[88] 



Youth Riding 

But while the food was cleared away, low 
by the doorstep 
It was Mary spoke to him, when there 
were stars. 
Not of crops and gossip, not of work and 
neighbors — 
Christ and Mary talked about the wishing 
to be good 
And the easy falling, and the new beginnings. 
And the way the moon looked, low above 
the wood. 



Christ said, ** Mary," as he walked within 
the garden; 
Startled, Mary Magdalene raised her tear- 
stained face. 
That was very long ago, in a far-off country, 
In a far-off country, and a foreign place. 
[89] 



Youth Riding 

Still each year at Easter-time do we think 
again of her, 
And the other Marys who are dead in the 
earth, 
Who are dead long ago, but who loved and 
tended him. 
When our Lord was a man, and felt of 
tears and mirth. 

All the Marys of the world, let us pray to- 
gether now, 
Mary Schwartz, and Mary Brown, and 
Mary Rosenstein, 
Little Mary Donnelly, Mary Holt and Mary 
Hull, 
Mary Olsen, Mary Morse, all in a line. 
Since it is the Easter-time, and little bells 
are ringing. 
Let us walk in still pride, with lifting of 
the head, 

[90] 



Youth Riding 

For when he had risen from the grave, as 
all the world knows, 
" Mary " was the first name that God 
ever said. 



[91] 



A BALLAD OF MARY 

Joseph's words were kindly words, 

Joseph's hands were kind, 
And the thoughts were kindly thoughts 

Went across his mind. 

Was no shining round his head; 

Wore no raiment white ; 
And his words no music had, 

And his face no light. 

Joseph smoothed her pillow down, 

Held a cup of mead. 
Joseph's ways were thoughtful ways 

For a woman's need. 

As upon her stable-bed 
Yellow-sweet with hay; 

[92] 



Youth Riding 

With deep eyes that none could read 
Stilly Mary lay. 

Slow she smiled and grateful-wise, 

Let no half-look tell 
Joseph seemed a sober man 

After Gabriel. 



[93] 



AFTER EASTER 

^^ It was here he used to sit, 

And here he slept; 
And when he heard my brother'd died 

I mind how he wept. # 

*' Here was his low bench, 

And here his bed," 
To the neighbor women 

Martha said. 

" He liked the talking. 

And he liked more 
To sit silently 

Looking at the floor." 

[94] 



Youth Riding 

Martha spoke the neighbors 
With pride in her tone! 

But Mary in the garden 
Was crying alone. 



[95] 



CLOISTERED 

To-night the little girl-nun died. 

Her hands were laid 
Across her breast; the last sun tried 

To kiss her quiet braid; 
And where the little river cried, 

Her grave was made. 

The little girl-nun's soul, in awe. 

Went silently 
To where her brother Christ she saw, 

Under the Living Tree ; 
He sighed, and his face seemed to draw 

Her tears, to see. 

He laid his hands on her hands mild. 
And gravely blessed; 

[96] 



Youth Riding 

*' Blind, they that kept you so," He smiled, 

With tears unguessed. 
'* Saw they not Mary held a child 

Upon her breast? " 



[97] 



REMINISCENCES 

The other side of Death, one night, 
Walked out a youth and maid ; 

And they reviewed (as children might 
A game that they had played) 

The battle they had died to fight. 
The cost they both had paid. 

** I heard — or seemed to hear," she said, 

'* Far voices, seemed to see 
St. Michael point me to a sword 

To set my country free ; 
With men, a man I fought," her head 

Dropped forward wearily. 

The boy assented with a nod, 
** Like me," he said, " beguiled. 

[98] 



Youth Riding 

A dove — a voice from heaven — odd 
My fancies were, and wild ! 

I thought I was the son of God," 
He said, and, rueful, smiled. 



[99] 



IN THE PARK 

I had forgotten children felt so sweet. 

One sees them on the street, 

And passes by with only a faint start 

Of pleasure in their being. For they start 

Through our gray lives like sea-gulls in gray 

skies, 
And we, like fisher people, watch with eyes 
Made by long years indifferent. But to-day 
It was Spring everywhere, even in the park. 
I sat upon the ground, and a book lay 
Before me. Aitid I read; then watched the 

dark 
And light run through the grass. There 

were children calling. 
And hiding, romping, falling. 

At length a little group came playing near 
me; 

[ 100 ] 



Youth Riding 

I thought that they might fear me, 

And so I kept my eyes down. Suddenly 

Forgetting them. I raised my head — to see 

The close face of a child; 

I smiled, 

And she smiled back, and came 

A little nearer me, and asked my name. 

'^Mary," I said, ^^ what's yours?" ''It's 

Geraldine, 
Named for my aunt. But she has never 

seen 
A single one of all us children yet. 
And," quickly pointing, '' her name's Mar- 
garet, 
And that's my brother Jimmie, Margaret's 

two ; 
She'll be three though, next April. What 

are you 
Reading?" ''A story." ''May we sit 

here?" "Do!" 

[lOl] 



Youth Riding 

'' Or Will we be a bother? Mother tells 
Us not to bother strangers. The grass 

smells 
Good, don't it? Will you play 
Blind man with us?'' ''Perhaps, some 

other day." 

Then they ran shouting, dancing, where the 

men 
Were gravely making a flower bed, 
And then 
The gardener, scowling, walked to me and 

said, 
'' Lady, don't let your children go 
Over there where the men are digging." I 
Stared at him, saying nothing in reply. 
I know 

That it is very wrong to act a lie. 
But still I looked at him, and made no sign. 
I wanted him to think that they were mine ! 
[ 102] 



Youth Riding 

The children straggled back, and played; 

then heard 
The stories that I knew, and scarcely stirred. 
I caught up Margaret in a little ball 
And kissed her face — child faces are so 

small I 
The rounded mouths! The little curious 

shape 
Of the soft ears, and the curls in the nape 
Of the proud baby necks ! Their arms are 

white . . . 
And Jimmie put his curls upon my knee 
And Geraldine came closer bashfully 
And pressed against me. Jimmie hurt my 

feet 
By leaning on them. Margaret snuggled 

tight. 
— I had forgotten children felt so sweet — 



[ 103 ] 



AN OLD TALE 

The princess sleeps 

And her hair grows long. 
And her birds sleep 

Each with a song 
Stuck In his throat; 

And over her bower 

Hour after hour 
The buds sleep too. 
The old cook sleeps. 

And the quiet braids 

Of the serving maids 
Are gold in the sun. 

And in the yard 

The knights that guard 
Sleep, every one; 

And, near the throne 
[104] 



Youth Riding 

The captains tall 

Are sleeping all 

As though out in stone ; 

Each cardinal 

Sleeps ; and the king 

And the queen, with a ring 

Of pages round. 

And the world spins round 
And the princess sleeps. 

Thrust after thrust 

A prince hews strong — 

At the hedge, and his hair, 

And his face are fair. 

(He is not the man 
Who will waken the princess, 

His eyes will be gone 
And his bones will lie 

[105] 



Youth Riding 

And catch the light 

When the prince rides by 
Whose kiss will stir 
The world and her. 
He is only one 

Of the hundred men 
Who will dream of the princess, 

Die, and then 
Be a pathway white 
For the last brave knight 
To lead him straight 
Where her lips await.) 

And he sings. 

And he feels the stings 

Of the thorns. 
And he cries. 
To his page, 
*^ Courage, lad I 
Hew on and thrust. 
[io6] 



Youth Riding 

If God is just 

We shall wake her 

And take her 
Home to our kingdom. 
You will be squire to her, 
Walk at her bridle — 

She will be smiling 

And speaking out shyly 
All that her heart holds, 

And singing a little 

For gladness of waking. 
And I shall make Life 

Bow on its knees to her; 
I shall make Life 

Bow on its knees to her — 
Hew on and thrust ! 
If God is just. 

We shall find her 

And wake her 

And take her home." 
[ 107] 



Youth Riding 

In its iron hands 

For miles around 
A silence keeps 
The forest deeps. 

And the world spins round. 
— And the princess sleeps. 



[ 108 ] 



PART V 



TWO DREAMS DWELL IN HER EYES 

Two dreams dwell in her eyes, 
I cannot see them there, 

But bow, in humble wise, 
My head in prayer. 

Two songs sing in her eyes, 
I cannot hear them sing. 

But, ah, I hold my breath 
With listening. 



[Ill] 



CHOSEN 

Girlish wise, she and I 

Walked together. Death came by. 

Death has passed and chosen her; 
And she does not speak or stir; 

She who loved to call and run 
Shall not bare her head to sun, 

Shall not hear the triumphing 
Of the birds another Spring. 

She must sleep beneath the ground. 
— In my heart unworthily 
I pray thanks that it was she 
That his groping fingers found — 

[112] 



THE RIDERS 

Life is on a swift horse, and Youth is on a 
fleet, 
Beauty rides with spur and whip, and noth- 
ing stays. 
Snatch my hand, and pull me close, and make 
them beat, 
Your heart and my heart, a few small days ! 

Let the quarrels go now, the explaining word; 
Let the treasured griefs drop down like 
sand. 
What are our best toys, when Their hoofs are 
heard? 
Put the words behind us, and touch my 
hand. 

[113] 



Youth Riding 

Mighty are the steeds and swift, wild the 
steeds that bear 
The Three on the highroad where the small 
stones fly. 
If your face hide at my neck, my eyes hide 
in your hair. 
We shall never know, then. Who has rid- 
den by ! 



[IH] 



PASSERBY 

From youth's high casement to the street 

Look down, my sweet, 

With pitying eyes at Time and Death, 

Two bent old men who soon must die ; 

While you and I 

Draw lusty breath — 



[115] 



PART VI 



SONGS OF A GIRL 
I 

The buds 

Coming to color 

Make me weep. 

For my own brown cloak 

Has never been broken. 

Spring, rend me I 

II 

The hummings of the street, 

Their whisperings, 

And the moon 

White above me — 

These, and the beating of my heart 

Make me glad — 

[119] 



Youth Riding 

III 
The moon 
Strikes my hand 
Across my face as I lie. 
And the pain of it 
Keeps me from sleeping. 

IV 

Rainsound, sunset, and night, 

Clear skies, and the falling of water — 

Who would seek love ? 

What is love ? 

Love is when you touch me, 
Love is the noise of stars singing as they 
march, 

[120] 



Youth Riding 

Love is a voice of worlds glad to be together. 
What is love ? 

VI 

There is a strong wall about me to protect me, 
It is built of the words you have said to me. 

They are swords about me to keep me safe, 
They are the kisses of your lips. 

Before me goes a shield to guard me from 

harm, 
It is the shadow of your arms between me and 

danger. 

VII 

We walked alone through the long corridors 

of living. 
Our footfalls echoing; 
And then we came 

[121] 



Youth Riding 

By opposite doors 
To the great hall 
Of each other's presence. 

VIII 

For long 

Locked shields within me 

Withstood the onslaught of your words. 

Then came your kiss 

Like an arrow shot cunningly upward — 

IX 

See, I lead you to my heart. 
It is a winding way, the way to my heart, 
It is thorn beset and very long. 
It is walled and sentineled. 
And none could ever find the way alone. 
So take my hand, and I will lead you to my 
heart. 

[122] 



Youth Riding 



Touch me, and I am yours. 
I do not know why — 

XI 

Your kiss 

Is on my face 

Like the first snow 

On bewildered grass — 

XII 

Your hand and mine 

Hold converse together. 

We do not know what they are saying. 

Although we listen, 
Eager eavesdroppers, 
We cannot understand 
What they are saying — 
[ 123] 



Youth Riding 

XIII 

I feel your heart beating in your hands as they 

touch me ; 
I feel your breath 
Sobbing against my hair. 
Oh, put your mouth on mine and leave it so — 

XIV 
That leaning tree was once a girl, and heard 
A man's heart next her own. Remembering 
She holds her arms across the moon for us — 

XV 

Our hearts lie so close 

That when your heart trembles 
Mine will be afraid. 

Our hearts beat so near 
That when your heart stirs 
Mine will hear it. 

[ 124] 



Youth Riding 

Our hearts speak so loud 

That all the world must know ■ 

XVI 

Of sticks and leaves 

We made an image of love 

In play. 

And then the image came to life 

And seized us — 

xvu 

We two — we are young I 
We have lips to sing, 
To sing and kiss. 

We two, we are glad ! 
We have hearts that beat, 
That beat — and break. 

XVIII 

Take this kiss and wear it, 

[125] 



Youth Riding 

A shield that will ward off 

My words that might hurt you — 

XIX 

Within the little house 

Of my great love for you, 

This safe and happy house, 

I sit and sing, while all the world goes by. 

Within the house that is my love for you 
No harm can come, nor any thought of fear; 
There is no danger that can cross the 
threshold. 

You did not build this house 

Nor I; 

But God the Carpenter — 

XX 

Your eyes are two miracles, 

[126] 



Youth Riding 

And I who have seen them, 
Believe. 



XXI 

Perhaps 

God, planting Eden, 

Dropped a seed 

Within Time's neighbor plot 

That grew to be 

This hour? 

XXII 

Like an artist 

Who had finished a masterpiece 
And is almost afraid, 
You passed your finger 
Tremblingly- 
Over my lips 
Outlining their curves 
In the darkness. 

[ 127] 



Youth Riding 

And when you felt them smile 

You kissed the smile out 

And forced hunger upon them — 

XXIII 

The moments 

Of our being tired of one another 

Are the whetstone 

Against which Life holds 

The knife of our loving. 

XXIV 

Your arms can speak 
More readily than your voice. 
Your shoulder touching mine tells breathless 
news. 

XXVI 

Birds, 

And leaves falling in Autumn, 

[128] 



Youth Riding 

Have tried to teach me sadness, 

But they have only taught me joy. 

Perhaps it is you, 

Come to bring joy to me. 

Who shall show me sadness at the last? 

XXVI 

I hear our hearts together 

Like one clock 

Ticking our lives away. 

Could not some other 

Have reminded us of death? 

Why must it be 

Our own hearts 

In the first hour 

That they have beat together? 

XXVII 

Life is a dagger 
With no hilt. 

[ 129] 



Youth Riding 

As you tighten your arms about me 
You only drive the two ends deeper 
Into your heart 
And mine. 

XXVIII 

I bend and touch the torches in your eyes; 
Their flame lights all the little room called 
life. 

XXIX 

The wonder of your arm about me, 
Of your face close enough to touch, 
Of your soft breathing — 

What can God show me 

When I am dead 

That can make me marvel? 



[ 130] 



THE PROPOSAL 

The carved chair is angry with me. 

See how straight and stiff It is; 

It disapproves 

Because I have on my green slippers 

And because I have danced a hole in my 

stocking, 
And perhaps, too, because I am happy. 

The mirror loves me ; 

And so I bend to kiss It 

Where my own lips show leaning to meet me. 

The mirror understands 

Because it has seen Into the hearts of many 

women. 
And I shall be a woman soon. 

[131] 



Youth Riding 

Swaying curtains, you are not more beautiful 

Than I, 

You are not more graceful 

Nor does the wind curl its fingers about you 

more readily. 
You sway and dream. 
Even so do I sway in the wind of life, and 

dream — 

Fire on the hearth. 

That do you know? 

I am very young, 

And you have lived through the ages. 

Tell me. 

— But perhaps I would not believe, after 
all — 

Great carved lions 
Over my mantel 
You have guarded me well. 
[132] 



Youth Riding 

Portrait of a kissed lady, 
Portrait of a man who is growing old, 
Portrait of a child who would rather be 
playing — 

Portraits of dead people. 

Do you live again when you see me ? 

Do you remember, too? 

Square ceiling. 

You have kept the sky from me for a long 

time. 
But now I have found the sky. 

Walls, your arms have held me close, 
But soon other arms shall hold me. 

Shadows playing in the room. 
Leaping, clutching at one another, 
You are too young to understand. 
[ 133] 



Youth Riding 

Romp, shadows! 

When the fire goes, 

You shall not play any more — 



[134] 



COURTING 

This Sunday evening 

In small town parlors, and in country lanes, 

Upon porch steps, or in some soft apartment. 

How many pulses almost break the wrist 

They beat in with their outcry ! 

How many patient clocks in quiet rooms 

This hour 

Guard while the world is made anew 

By two hands touching — 

How many shy and slender words 

Are broken by the brute strength of a kiss! 

What seekers are finding God 
In some man's eyes, some woman's finger- 
tips, 

[135] 



Youth Riding 

Hearing His will in broken, whispered words, 
Their own words and another's — 

In all the world 

What throngs of men and women 
On this His holy day- 
Are doing God's work — 

■ — As you and I are — 



[136] 



WIFE 

You are a rope 
That binds me to a desk, 
That ties me by the wrist 
To its chair. 

They two, 

The desk and chair 

Alone of all the world 

Hear my ideals 

And my beliefs 

And my thoughts about things. 

In the window. 

There is a sky 

With roofs denting it. 

Under the roofs are the people 

Who ought to hear 

[ 137] 



Youth Riding 

What the two 
The desk and chair 
Greedily lap up. 

— I do not love the desk and chair 

It is the rope that makes me talk to them. 



[138] 



PART VII 



RESTAURANT TABLES 

The little tables in restaurants 

That are made for lovers to talk across, 

The eager little tables 

Would have much to tell each other 

If they could meet. 

Some have seen a kiss 

Given in a glance. 

Others have seen moments made 

Which will last forever. 

A red, mother-of-pearl, table in San Francisco 
On which rest two cups without handles. 
And on which tea is spilt, 
Could tell of young lovers quarrelling, 

[141] 



Youth Riding 

And with rude, quick, hands breaking all their 

sweetest memories 
So that the bitterness inside oozes forth. 

A table in an uptown hotel 

Stiff with crystal and cut flowers, 

Prim with an array of forks and glasses 

Seeming placed in their spheres by the music 

that is near. 
Could tell of words like budding seeds 
Breaking through the hard, frozen, ground 

of youth 
And springing to sudden sunlight. 

— And the little rough wooden table 
In George's on Sixth Avenue 
Knows what you said to me 
Last evening. 



[ 142] 



NEW YORK 
THE SUBWAY 

New York Is a mother 
Goading 
Prodding 
Spurring 

Her children on to achievement. 
Only here does she show them any tenderness, 
Here, where she folds them in her arms. 
And lets them rest against her breast 
An instant, 

Before she flings them out into the battle 
again. 

FIFTH AVENUE BUS 

Let us get on the back of this green beetle 

And see the world 

On our way to the office. 

[143] 



Youth Riding 

The beetle sways 

As if it were trying to brush us off. 
It blunders along the streets 
Like a blind thing 
Finding its way 
By some miracle. 
It stops 

And starts again. 
It creeps on down the street 
Thinking its own thought 
While we sit on its back 
And see the world. 

We can look down at the faces on the side- 
walk 
And at the black shiny tops of hansoms; 
We can see into second stories 
Of all the buildings. 
We know their secrets. 

The white faces turn unsecingly up to us ; 
[ 144] 



Youth Riding 

The roofs look indifferently down; 

And the green beetle 

Like a beast in a fairy tale, 

Bears us on its back 

That we may see the world. 

LOWER BROADWAY 
The great buildings 
Stand patiently 
And stretch high their arms, 
Holding up the sky 
Lest it sag 
And let all heaven down upon our heads. 

TELEPHONING 

Past all the tangled noises of the streets, 
Past the long blocks of hate and trade and 

greed, 
Into this sweating, swearing office comes 
Your voice ; 
It is as low and cool and sweet 

[145] 



Youth Riding 

As though you stood beside me 

In some garden 

And as you talked, touched roses, 

And looked down 

To where vine tendrils swayed against your 

dress. 
It seems 

That If I turn my head — so — I would see 
You standing here and smiling, 
That if I stretched my arm out 
I could lay 

My fingers on your throat 
And feel you say 
My name — 

A NEW YORK GRAVEYARD 
Rows of men and women 
Resting, 

Democratically crowded together, 
As if this were some subway 

[ 146 ] 



Youth Riding 

Where they relax for a moment 

And close their eyes, wearily, 

(Listening always for the name of their 

station) 
Where they rest, shoulder to unknown 

shoulder, 
Before pushing out into the light and air 

again 
To buy and sell — 



[147] 



THREE POEMS 

Dedicated to : 
Diaghileff's Ballet Russe. 



WASLAV NIJINSKY 

You have run 

Into the market place of our thoughts 

And with a ribbon 

Overturned the vendors' stands. 

You have scattered 

The loaves of bread 

Which were heaped in the wire basket. 

You have entered 

Slowly 

In your brown monkish garments 

And then pranced impishly. 

You have come laden with scrolls 

And you have thrown the scrolls upon the 

ground. 
You have cast off the scholar's garb 



Youth Riding 

And danced whitely 
In the moonlight. 

Alone in the square 

After the affrighted ones have fled 

You dance forever, 

Like a green moonbeam, 

Like a mad one. 

Like laying hold upon Spring. 

The country youths and the maidens 

That are in us 

Watch you ; 

Then fling themselves 

Into the pool of your abandon. 

There are no others in the market place, 

These have covered up their eyes 

Behind the windows; 

V^hile you dance 

With the youths and maidens 

[152] 



Youth Riding 

Upon the mauve paving stones. 

Then come, 

Like a clock striking, 

The ones of doom. 

Between their black rows you stand 

Alone, 

Their eyes of death upon you. 

You gaze afraid. 

Then you fling a gay mocking dance in their 
faces. 

And the lifted hand 
Gives your sentence 

They slay you. 

These thoughts that you mocked. 

The market place fills slowly 
With sobbing. 

[153] 



Youth Riding 

The peasants gaze 
Upon your dead body. 

Then, breaking the dark, 

You run, a spirit. 

Among them. 

And your laughter and theirs 

Is like colored lights 

Flung into the sky. 

In the market place of our hearts 

You will be slain 

Many times 

And always 

Again 

You will run 

Into the quietness 

Tossing colored balls into the sky 



[154] 



ENTR'ACTE SYMPHONIQUE 

The music Is telling the crowd 

What that girl wishes 

She is crying 

It is cruel 

The music is telling aloud 

What that old woman has hoarded 

And kept hidden 

For sixty years 

Could it not let her die in peace 

With no one suspecting? 

It is showing 

The yearnings 

Of the people in that box — 

Will it not cease — 

And saying what this child would like to be 

[155] 



Youth Riding 

That old man can never hold his head up 

again 
Now that his secret is discovered 
The barriers we have taken years to erect 
Are useless now 

We can not meet each other's eyes 
We who sit in this theater 
There is no peace 
Because of the music knowing 



We have no sanctuary 



The music is slipping its sly fingers in among 

us 
And pulling out 

From secret places what is there. 
What we have searched for and could not 

discover 
Within our hearts, it flaunts before us now. 

[156] 



Youth Riding 

I turn my face away 

I close my eyes 

That it may not see me. 

I feel the uneasiness in your shoulder 

As it barely touches mine 

That tells me you are shrinking from it also. 

What if it should find 
That we love one another ? 



[157] 



PRINCE IGOR 

(Adolf Bohm) 

She was a Back Bay school-teacher 
She sat in the front row of one of the boxes; 
And wore rimmed glasses ; 
And she was watching 

With an expression of distaste upon her fea- 
tures. 
It was Boston looking at Russia. 
The music clamored 
And howled 
And tore 

And made the dancers mad. 
The men with their bows and arrows 
Ran and panted. 
They stood in a circle 

[158] 



Youth Riding 

And beat their bows upon the ground. 

One of the dancers 

With the slant eyes of the Slav 

With the cat grace of the Mongolian 

Glided through the lines of bowmen 

Swayed from side to side 

And sank inarticulate 

Upon the ground. 

She leaned forward, her chin in her palms. 

In her face 

Was rage at her own dumbness 

All the rushing torrents within her 

Dammed, looked out from her eyes. 

The dancers ran in circles 

They threw their bows into the air and caught 

them. 
There was ugly ecstasy in her face. 
They stamped upon the ground. 
Her teeth were set together 
Like a dog's snarling. 

[159] 



Youth Riding 

The dancers whirled and spun. 

Her eyes were savage, thwarted, 

Filled with a lust to kill, to make. 

The dancers sprang and leaped. 

The music taunted and beat and stung. 

The dancers shook their bodies from side to 

side. 
Her eyes were like the yell of a savage; 
In her face were tribal dances, 
Tribal v/ooings. 
The music rose to larger joy 
It pulled the dancers up with it 
Into frenzy. 
Their twisted bodies 
Their writhing features 
Cried out louder than the music. 
The strongest dancer ran 
Down through the lines of bowmen 
And, kneeling in agony, 
Shook his head from side to side 
,[j6o] 



Youth Riding 

Then, raising his bow 
Drew the arrow to the head 
And shot it into the sky 
Her teeth were bared 
Her eyes half closed 
The curtain fell 
And she went home 
To teach arithmetic. 



[i6i] 



THE DANCER 

I watch the dancer, 
Bending, 
Lithely stooping. 
Leaping, rippling. 
Her motions changing 
As though she were a song of many notes; 
Her white robes swaying, 
Her scarves like water under wind; 
Her face held up to joy 
As a leaf to sunlight; 

Her arms yearning and crying out for beauty, 
Reaching up 

And pulling down beauty upon her head, 
Then flinging it from her, to our outstretched 
hands. 

But it is you 

Calm, restrained, motionless, 

[162] 



Youth Riding 

Sitting beside me in your orchestra seat, 

watching her also, 
Is it you whom I see dancing with such 

ecstasy, 
Tortured with music 
Mad with motion 
Giving yourself to your joy; 
It is your throat, upon whose whiteness the 

light falls, 
Your transfigured face I see 
Held up to gladness 
As a leaf to sunlight, 
And your lifted arms 
Asking, and holding beauty. 

You 

Seeing my tranced eyes fixed upon her 

Are a little jealous. 

— You need not be. 

Beloved — 

[163] 



PART VIII 



PORTRAIT 

You laugh 

And ride life as if it were a broncho. 

As it rears and tries to kill you 

You only cling tighter 

And laugh. 

Other men life may have thrown and 

trampled 
But you will break it to your will 
And make it carry you wherever you wish 

to go. 



[167] 



A MARRIAGE 

Walking along a mountain trail at night 
with you, 

Never knowing when a rock will turn be- 
neath our feet 

Or the loose earth slip 

And plunge us into the half-seen precipice 
below — 

Our life is like that. 

We cling to each other's hands tightly; 

We walk cautiously ; 

And are too frightened 

To be unkind. 



[i68] 



SWORD FERNS 

I He upon the deep moss, 

My cheek making a rounded hole. 

The sword ferns about me are so thick 

That I can not see the earth; 

They are bending and tossing 

Like green scimitars 

In a wild battle ; 

Crowding something to death. 

It is my other self that they are stabbing. 

What was I is dead; 

They have killed it. 

This thing that lies in the moss 
Making soft depressions with its rounded 
body 

[169] 



Youth Riding 

Is a wood nymph 

Born of the moss and the earth and the 

leaves; 
Kin to the trees and the peaks and the quick 

streams, 
Lover of the wind — 



[ 170] 



HOUSES 

Dogwood tree, 

Hemlock tree, 

Sword fern, 

Thimbleberry bush — 

Are you glad that you are not walls? 

White sky 

With nine blue clouds. 

Are you proud not to be a ceiling? 

Round gray rocks 

At the edge of the broken mountain stream. 

Are you breathless with relief 

That you are not chairs ? 

Ah, stream, if you were a carpet! 

Laugh, be triumphant! 

Wind, wind, you and I 

[171] ' 



Youth Riding 

Who live in this green mountain, 

And shout, and are silent, 

Let us purse our lips and blow 

Until all the houses in the world 

Topple over and flee 

Like dried leaves 

Tumbling in new grotesque terror. 



[172] 



PROSPECTORS 

It's not the gold. Why, any one might know 

If he would only stop to think of It, 

It's not the gold. — We take the trail, each 

one 
Beside cold, thirst, and fear and solitude — 
We think it's for the gold. — We say it is. 
Sometimes we die, too, when a tunnel goes, 
(They're rotten timbered, half of these black 

holes). 
Or when the cold has got us and we're glad. — 
We go out, thinking still it was the gold. 
It isn't, though; I think it's only that 
We've got to prove what's in us; to ourselves 
Or God, perhaps, or may be to the mountains 
They stand and leer at us through all our 

struggle. 

[ 173] 



Youth Riding 

WeVe got to prove it to them. So we take 
Our packs, and keep on stumbling in the hills 
In places where there never was a trail 
And never will be, maybe, till weVe been 
Part of the trees and bushes for a while. 
The mountains try to break us, and we put 
Our strength to theirs . . . 

The mountains always win. 



[174] 



A MINING TOWN 

When I am bravest, 

Not in dreams, but glimpsed through my 

work, 
I see you again, town of my childhood; 
— Eager, flaming town. 
Confident, alert. 
Knowing that to-morrow will bring you 

gold — 
Town of the mountainside 
With glaciers above you, and snow peaks ; 
With the dark, still lake at your feet, 
And pines at your door — 

Down your streets the miners go laughing; 

And the old prospectors gather 

To talk each one about a claim in the hills 

[ 175 ] 



Youth Riding 

That will make him rich 
Some day. 

Death is quick and sudden in the mining town 
And therefore life is joyous. 

Here is a man who limps 

He was caught in a snowslide ; 

But chiefly the hills do their work swift and 

clean; 
That gap in the circle? — a bear on the trail, 

and the men at the mine found his body 

and brought it home. 
That silence where a laugh should be? 
A cave-in, in the tunnel — and, pinned under 

rocks, he watched Death crawl in to him 

— and we who knew him, know that he 

laughed as he watched. 
The other vacant keg? The fuse was too 

short, the explosion came too soon, by a 

second. 

[176] 



Youth Riding 

That is why they laugh so loud, these miners. 

Life is a game of chance, 

You can lose only once ! 

So laugh and treat while you're winning! 

The gaunt old peaks stand looking down. 
Waiting, 

They seem to reach the shadows, their arms, 
closer for their prey. 

The lake looks hungrily up, 

It shows its white teeth, laughing, and calls 

out. 
Slapping words at the shore ; about the men it 

holds 
In Its dark arms, and kisses endlessly with its 

wet mouth 
Down in the shadows. 
Men lie there that came through a hundred 

dangers. 
To find this blue death. 

[ 177 ] 



Youth Riding 

Was ever child of yours afraid, little Town? 
They all have the eyes of you, eyes that see 

far, 
And therefore smile. 

I am your child. 

I too have your hands of daring 

And your heart of reckless joy. 

I shut my eyes and see you. 
I seem to stand 
Again upon your hillside. 
Breathing in the biting cold 
And the danger, 
I stand glad, uplifted. 
Like a boy shouting because it is Spring; 
I see again your lake below me 
And your peaks above, 
I touch a tamarack with my hands 
And hear speech of the great woods around 
me; 

[178] 



Youth Riding 

I am one with the north, one with the hills, 

one with danger, 
As I laugh, and climb. 

I shall remember you, 
Eager town, 

Strong, alert, flaming with joy and snatch- 
ing the adventure, 
I, who am your child, will remember ! 

And I shall never be afraid 

Even of life ; 

And who that does not x^ar Life can fear 

Death 
Which is so much a lesser thing? 

THE END 



[ 179] 

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